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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23799463">there's magic in a bard's song (o lei o lai o lei o lord)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightofcauldrons/pseuds/knightofcauldrons'>knightofcauldrons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Pining, Sassy Jaskier | Dandelion, YES he's a dnd bard NO i wont always be following actual dnd rules, YES the fic title is a combo of a taz quote and an oh hellos lyric what of it, and i dont want him to be competent despite being a bard, flavor/narrative is more important than dnd rules lol, i want him to be competent BECAUSE he's a bard, idk if i'll actually write any romance but geralt certainly has Some Feelings, in which jaskier is a dnd bard, look i just want jaskier to be Able To Do Things, so i guess you could call it pre slash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:28:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23799463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightofcauldrons/pseuds/knightofcauldrons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something different about the way the bard sings.</p><p>There is something underlying his voice, his music.</p><p>It bothers Geralt.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>259</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. "Just a bard."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s something different about the way the bard sings.</p><p>There is something underlying his voice, his music.</p><p>It bothers Geralt.</p><p>
  <em>(“You don’t want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting, do you?”)</em>
</p><p>It’s not a good line. Yet there’s still something enticing in his voice. There’s something <em>magical</em> in his voice, a more poetic man might say. </p><p>Geralt has no time for poets, though. </p><p>And he <em>especially</em> doesn’t have time for a poet like <em>this</em> one <em>(even if Geralt wants to compare his eyes to a cloudless day or a shimmering lake)</em>. </p><p> </p><p>Geralt looks down the road and sees that the bard is still trailing behind. </p><p>Geralt has no fucking idea why the bard is following him. </p><p>
  <em>(Who would ever want to follow a witcher?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Emotionless. Soulless. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If the bard knew what’s best for him, he’d stay away-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Like everyone else.)</em>
</p><p>Is the bard seriously just following him so he could write some fucking folk songs?</p><p>Stupid. Stupid, stupid.</p><p>
  <em>(Geralt doesn’t live a fucking fantastical life. Not like the bard knows that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt wonders if the bard would be willing to die just for a good story.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt doesn’t want the bard following him around.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt can’t protect everyone.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It’s dangerous to travel with him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt says “come here” and the bard follows him like a puppy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The bard shows no sign of turning back, even after Geralt punches him in the gut.)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There’s a tussle with a Sylvan, and Geralt somehow ends up on the ground, his hands tied to the bard’s. </p><p>The elves beat them around a little, the bard winces as one of them destroys his lute as if feeling physical pain.</p><p>Filavandrel walks in.</p><p>“Oh hello there!” the bard says in a sing-song voice, though he sounds a bit panicked. “Look, we can all be friends here!” the bard frantically says. There’s something odd in his voice- The same sort of oddness as whenever he sings. “There’s no need for you to have us all tied up, friend! Now if you can please just let us-”</p><p>Filavandrel suddenly kicks the bard in the stomach, hard enough that Geralt can almost feel it through his back. </p><p>“How <em>dare</em>! The <em>audacity</em> of trying to charm <em>me</em>.”</p><p>...Charm?</p><p>“Leave off!” Geralt orders. “He’s just a bard.”</p><p>“...<em>Just a bard</em>,” the bard mutters bitterly after a minute of wheezing. “And <em>who</em>, exactly, are you?” the bard asks his captors.</p><p>“He’s Filavandrel, king of the elves,” one of them says.</p><p>Filavandrel shakes his head. “Not a king. Not by choice.”</p><p>They talk. Geralt tries to bargain with them, tries to insist to them that humans are not, necessarily, the problem.</p><p>“...Even chaos is polluted. Synthetically enhanced so humans can make magic,” Filavandrel says. </p><p>“<em>There are other ways to cast magic</em>,” the bard suddenly says. In perfect Elder. </p><p>Filavandrel stares at him. “<em>You speak Elder, human?</em>”  </p><p>“<em>Uh- I- Uh, I dabble</em>.” </p><p>Filavandrel blinked at the bard, and something like recognition flashed in his eyes. </p><p>“Oh,” said Filavandrel. “Oh, I know who you are.” </p><p>...What a twist. How the hell does the king of the elves know this lowly bard?</p><p>“Look, just- We really mean no harm! Okay?” the bard said to them. “And, just think about it! My friend here totally could’ve killed your Sylvan friend. But he didn’t! That’s gotta say something, right?”</p><p>The Sylvan stepped forward. “He’s right, Filavandrel!” he insisted. “The bard’s friend is different. Like us.”</p><p>“If it’s food you need, I think I can help,” the bard muttered. “If you give me eight hours and some plants. You wouldn’t have to steal grain anymore after a bit.”</p><p>“I promise you,” Geralt said. “Killing us will not make you feel better. You’ll come out the other side with blood on your hands and regret in your soul.”</p><p>Filavandrel and the other elf looked at each other.</p><p>Filavandrel took out his sword, and severed the binds that tied Geralt and the bard.</p><p> </p><p>Jaskier stays behind. Geralt’s form keeps getting smaller and smaller down the road until he’s out of sight, and Jaskier lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. </p><p>“I’m surprised you didn’t go with the witcher,” Filavandrel said to him.</p><p>Jaskier shrugged. “I can write a ballad another time. Right now, I need to prance around a field for eight hours. You know how it is.”</p><p>Filavandrel just looked out at the soil before them, hands behind his back. </p><p>Then his hands appeared from his back and he was holding a lute, a beautiful thing of elven craft. He looked at Jaskier expectantly.</p><p>“...For me?” </p><p>“No, I’m just showing it to you,” Filavandrel said dryly. “<em>Yes</em>, it’s for you, Dandelion.”</p><p>Jaskier’s eyes widened. “Oh- Thank you! Thank you. Truly.” </p><p>Filavandrel just nodded.</p><p>Jaskier put the lute strap around his shoulder, giving the lute a simple strum.</p><p>Jaskier smiled. “Now <em>this</em>…” Jaskier looked out at the field. “We have some work to do.” </p><p>Filavandrel nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, bard.” Filavandrel hesitated. “I would like to know more about these other ways to cast magic. ...Though, I think I know what you mean.” </p><p>Something in Jaskier’s chest got warm. “Good. Good.” </p><p>“...You’ll see your White Wolf again. Destiny, and all that.”</p><p>Jaskier snorted. “He’s not mine.”</p><p>“No, not yet.”</p><p>Jaskier glanced at Filavandrel. “I’ll try to keep in touch, you know. I could write a ballad for you.”</p><p>The corners of Filavandrel’s eyes crinkled. “Now I’d like to hear that.”</p><p>Jaskier nodded, and Filavandrel turned and walked away. </p><p>Jaskier looked out at the dirt before him. </p><p>And then he began to sing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“...And when all your ziggurats have crumbled down<br/>
And every stone is thrown like seeds across the ground<br/>
A new Arcadia will come around<br/>
And multiply until the binds of death have been unbound.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cause see, the ground all around<br/>
It was always holy.<br/>
Leave the ruins where they fall<br/>
Leave them all.<br/>
And let the wild take over!”</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>whats up yall i havent read the books i havent played the games i dissociated through half of the show but heres a witcher fic anyways because in my humble opinion jaskier thewitchernetflix should be allowed to insult a monster until it dies</p><p>the song jask sings at the end is "grow" by the oh hellos!</p><p>the spells jaskier cast in this chapter were charm person (on filavandrel, though it fails) and plant growth (at the end)</p><p>comments are greatly appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. “I don’t need anyone by my side except for my horse.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something is flying towards Geralt.</p>
<p>He catches it, because he’s a fucking witcher, so of course he catches it.</p>
<p>Geralt looks down at the projectile in his head.</p>
<p>It’s a fucking coin.</p>
<p>“<em>Toss a coin to your witcher!</em>” sings a familiar voice. “<em>O valley of plenty, O valley of plenty.</em>”</p>
<p>Geralt scowls and looks up at the grinning face of the bard, with his swept brown hair and his cornflower blue eyes and his lightly pink cheeks. </p>
<p>Oh, fuck’s sake.</p>
<p>“Have you heard my song?” </p>
<p>Geralt feels like he’s about to fucking explode.</p>
<p>“Stupid question,” Geralt spat. “Of course I’ve heard your <em>fucking</em> song. It’s been following me like the goddamn plague. Just as catchy as the plague, too.”</p>
<p>The bard’s eyes lit up. “You called it catchy! It really is, isn’t it? It’s definitely one of my more popular songs.”</p>
<p>Geralt just rolled his eyes, turning his back to the bard and walking towards the nearest tavern. </p>
<p>He could hear the bard following behind him, his boots clicking on the cobblestone. </p>
<p>“Oh, come now!” the bard insists. “You’re an adventurous man, think of all the other ballads I could write if I were by your side!”</p>
<p>“I don’t need anyone by my side except for my horse,” Geralt answers gruffly.</p>
<p>The bard catches up to him, appearing to his left, strumming a lute.</p>
<p>Even Geralt could tell that this lute was <em>special</em>. It was a gorgeous thing, polished and painted with simple yet unique designs. Geralt looks up and down at him. “That’s new.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you noticed! Yes, Filavandrel gifted it to me. He’s a nice fella, really, perhaps deserving of a ballad! And it’d pair nicely next to <em>Toss a Coin</em>, the story of how the <em>infamous witcher</em> Geralt of Rivia bestowed kindness onto the elves after defeating a devil! I’ve been hoping the song can restore the elves’ reputation- Yours, too.”</p>
<p>Oh, right. That one time when him and the bard got their asses kicked by some elves and nearly got killed. <em>How heroic</em>. </p>
<p>Geralt has a lot of questions about that incident, actually. Everything about that encounter was strange.</p>
<p>Firstly, the bard was fluent in Elder. Why the <em>fuck</em> was he fluent in Elder? </p>
<p>Secondly, Filavandrel seemed to recognize him. Why the <em>fuck</em> would he recognize a human bard that wouldn’t even have been around for the Great Cleansing? </p>
<p>Thirdly, this bard had some <em>capabilities. “If it’s food you need, I think I can help. If you give me eight hours and some plants.”</em> What the <em>fuck</em> is that supposed to mean?  </p>
<p>There was just something <em>weird</em> about this bard.</p>
<p>Geralt was curious.</p>
<p>Geralt didn’t <em>trust it</em>.</p>
<p>“I still don’t want you travelling with me, bard,” Geralt insisted as he opened the door of a tavern. </p>
<p>“Poppycock!” the bard said. “Think about it, Geralt! My song single-handedly saved your reputation from the gates of Hell itself. Have you noticed people are generally more polite to you, witcher? They’re more likely to give you information? They pay you a bit more?”</p>
<p>Geralt’s silence was all the answer the bard needed. Geralt couldn’t deny that some people were considerably more cooperative. Not everyone was, but it was enough people that Geralt saw a noticeable difference.</p>
<p>“Not that you don’t have a <em>charming</em> personality, but… You don’t. Everyone being nicer to you? That’s thanks to me.”</p>
<p>“Is it money you want, bard? <em>Compensation</em> for your work?” Geralt asked, sliding into a booth in the back of the tavern. The bard put a leg on one of the chairs, leaning forward and putting his arm on his knee.</p>
<p>“Money? No,” the bard laughed. “I just want a travel companion.”</p>
<p>Geralt looked up at the bard, eyeing him. </p>
<p>“Why do I have a feeling you’ll follow me even if I say no,” he grunted.</p>
<p>The bard just smiled at him. “Well, if that’s what you’re worried about- Say the word and I’ll leave. But I implore you to give me a chance- I promise I’m very likable! I’ll probably grow on you, Geralt.”</p>
<p>Geralt wrinkled his nose. “You’ll grow on me like mold.”</p>
<p>“At least you agree I’ll grow on you! Come on- Whaddya say, witcher?” </p>
<p>Geralt sighed, long and deep.</p>
<p>“...Slow me down, and I leave you behind.”</p>
<p>The bard looked momentarily surprised, as if not expecting to actually get this far, and then he grinned even wider than before. </p>
<p>“Wonderful! Geralt of Rivia, I <em>promise</em> you won’t regret this!”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I!” The bard gracefully fell into the chair across from Geralt. “I am a bard of many names, my dear, but you may call me <em>Jaskier</em>.” The bard smiled at him with his teeth. “And <em>we’re</em> going to be wonderful travel partners.”</p>
<p>“Don’t get too excited.”</p>
<p>“Too late!”</p>
<p>Geralt groaned. </p>
<p>Melitele have mercy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>not entirely sure how i feel about this chapter but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
<p>comments are always greatly appreciated!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. “I only kill monsters, Jaskier.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier fucking <em>stinks</em>. </p><p>He stinks like flowers and flowers and <em>flowers</em> and why the <em>fuck</em> would anyone want to smell so florally putrid? </p><p>For Geralt’s witcher senses, the smell is fucking overwhelming. Nowadays, Geralt’s always able to smell fucking <em>dandelions</em>. </p><p>If Geralt wasn’t a fully-trained fucking witcher, then the smell would be distracting.</p><p>Jaskier croons next to him, plucking at his lute as they walk down the dirt path road, when Geralt finally asks.</p><p>“Why the <em>fuck</em> do you smell like that?” </p><p>Jaskier blinks, then looks up at him.</p><p>“Like what? Is it a nice smell?”</p><p>Geralt just wrinkles his nose, scowling. “Smells like you vomited flowers. It’s overwhelming.”</p><p>“Oh, yes- Your sensitive witcher nose really wouldn’t handle the smell, would it?”</p><p>Geralt growls. “My <em>sensitive witcher nose</em> can handle it <em>fine</em>,” he says, a tad defensive. “I just can’t figure out why anyone would want to smell so <em>sickeningly sweet</em>.”</p><p>Jaskier chuckles. “It’s just perfume, Geralt. I like to smell <em>fresh</em>. Not that you’d understand, of course, you always smell like blood and dirt and whatever monster you last fought. I need <em>some</em> way to combat your stench.”</p><p>Geralt just sneers, rolls his eyes.</p><p>“How much longer until the next town, you think?” Jaskier asks him. “Not that I’m not grateful for your <em>lovely</em> company, but I am <em>itching</em> for a good two-way conversation!”</p><p>“We’re getting closer,” Geralt grunted. “Perhaps your <em>two-way conversation</em> can get us the coin for a room tonight.” </p><p>Jaskier grinned. “It’d be no problem at all, my friend!”</p><p> </p><p>The people in this town seem extra stingy compared to other towns. Even with Jaskier by his side, the folks in this tavern barely seem less tense about Geralt’s presence.</p><p>It makes getting coin something of a struggle.</p><p>Jaskier’s tried all the crowd favorites- Jaunty folk songs and epic adventures, he even starts improving a few outrageous tales. He extends <em>Fishmonger’s Daughter</em> for a few ad-libbed verses and doesn’t have the courage nor the motivation to try <em>Toss A Coin</em>. </p><p>So needless to say, Jaskier ends up working a few hours longer than he usually would.</p><p>Jaskier’s fingers are starting to turn red, the breaks between songs are getting longer, his performative smiles are getting thinner. The thrill of performing usually puts an insatiable light in his eyes, but now his eyes are just a dull greyish blue. Jaskier is just looking down at his hand now, clenching and unclenching it with a furrowed eyebrow. “Stop hurting,” he mutters to his hand, quiet enough that only Geralt could’ve heard.</p><p>Geralt’s had enough of this.</p><p>“Jaskier.”</p><p>The bard looks up at him. </p><p>“Yes, Geralt?”</p><p>“How much coin do you have?”</p><p>“Huh? Oh- I only have enough for one room-”</p><p>“You’ve been playing for long enough,” Geralt says. </p><p>The bard looks at him, blinks, eyes a little wide. “What? No, I’m fine! Really, it’s fine. I haven’t made enough yet, it’s just- A stingy crowd, you know?” Jaskier insists with an uncertain chuckle. “I can get us more coin, get us two rooms, I promise you! I’m sorry it’s taken so long but if you just give me another hour-”</p><p>“<em>Jaskier</em>.”</p><p>Jaskier stops talking.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Geralt says firmly. “I don’t mind sharing a room.”</p><p>“...Oh.”</p><p>Geralt frowns slightly. “You’re putting too much effort into a crowd that doesn’t deserve you. You’re tiring yourself out.”</p><p>“I- Right.”</p><p>Geralt takes Jaskier by the shoulder- not necessarily gentle, but certainly not rough either.</p><p>“Come on, bard.”</p><p>“Right-o, Geralt.”</p><p>Jaskier’s shoulders are still tense. The stress of an unreceptive crowd, perhaps.</p><p>Geralt sighs again. “Maybe you should take a bath, too. Take a bath and <em>relax</em>, gods’ sake. I’m not going to put up with you sulking for the next two weeks just because some people didn’t like your singing.” <em>I’m not going to put up with you sulking</em>, right. Geralt’s heart definitely feels fine while watching Jaskier drain himself for a dead crowd. (God forbid Geralt admits he cares even a little about the bard.)</p><p>Jaskier looks surprised for a moment, before seemingly relenting. </p><p>“Okay- I’ll never turn down the opportunity for a good bath.”</p><p> </p><p>Jaskier walks into their shared room, smelling of bath salts and lavender soap and petals. It’s almost as if Jaskier used every scented bath product the inn could provide.</p><p>“I’m still sorry,” Jaskier says as he sits next to him on the bed, in just his boxers and a loose white shirt. </p><p>“And for the last time, Jaskier, I <em>don’t</em> care about sharing a room with you.”</p><p>Jaskier nods. “Okay. Then I don’t, either.”</p><p>Geralt leans back into the pillows. “I got a contract.”</p><p>Jaskier raises his eyebrows, almost looking impressed. “Look at you! Got a contract all by yourself! I’m proud of my socially adept witcher,” Jaskier half-joked.</p><p>Geralt rolled his eyes. “Just go to sleep, Jaskier.”</p><p>“Sure, sure,” said Jaskier. “Goodnight to you too, Geralt.”</p><p> </p><p><em>There’s a blue-eyed bard in his dreams. Geralt refuses to analyze why.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Geralt’s golden eyes crack open, and the most striking thing he notices is that it doesn’t smell like dandelions or anything else floral.</p><p>It smells like-</p><p>Geralt sits up, and sees Jaskier already awake, standing in front of the bed. He’s holding a small empty glass bottle, and he’s pounding the opening of the bottle onto his palm, causing a ring of red to be formed on his delicate hands. There’s something desperate in his eyes.</p><p>“<em>Goddammit</em>,” the bard growls (and Geralt’s never heard the bard <em>growl</em>, it sends something up his spine). “Not even a damn drop? Of all the days to run out it just had to be-”</p><p>Jaskier cuts himself off as his head jerks towards Geralt, as if just noticing he was awake.</p><p>“...Geralt!” Jaskier says with a hesitant smile. “What a <em>pleasant</em> morning-”</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me you were an elf?” </p><p>Because <em>that’s</em> what Jaskier smells like. </p><p>An elf. Even if his ears aren’t pointed, there’s no mistaking that scent.</p><p>Jaskier’s smile wavered. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my people all got subjected to a good ol’ mass genocide,” Jaskier says. “Someone sees I’m an elf, and they’ll probably hunt me for sport and hang my ears off a necklace.”</p><p>“But you mask your scent, too.” </p><p>“As if there aren’t racist witchers out there that might try to kill me?” Jaskier spat bitterly.</p><p>“I’d never kill you,” Geralt says, sounding surprisingly gentle. </p><p>Jaskier pauses, then his face softens. “I was talking about <em>other</em> witchers, you oaf,” he says softly, something a bit fond in his voice. “I know <em>you</em> wouldn’t.” </p><p>Geralt clears his throat. Right. Obviously.</p><p>
  <em>(They haven’t been travelling together for very long but Jaskier trusts him. Geralt feels a certain way about that.)</em>
</p><p>“This explains how Filavandrel recognized you.”</p><p>The corners of Jaskier’s eyes crinkled. “Geralt, are you saying that we know each other just because we’re elves?”</p><p>Thankfully, Jaskier continued talking before Geralt could think of a good answer. </p><p>“-I’m just teasing! I used to play in his court, sometimes. Got a bit popular with other elven folk. I still know some elven tunes, but I don’t really sing them anymore.”</p><p>“I’m surprised I hadn’t noticed you were wearing a glamour,” Geralt said. </p><p>“That’s good!” Jaskier chuckled. “Then I know I’m getting my money’s worth!”</p><p>“I only kill monsters, Jaskier.”</p><p>Jaskier smiles at him. <em>(He has a pretty smile.)</em></p><p>“I know.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>we love a good good elf boy</p><p>i was Very Tired while editing this so if a sentence or two sounds kinda whacky then that's why lol</p><p>comments are greatly appreciated and are also my lifeblood!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. "Perhaps drowners appreciate my music, unlike you."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So,” said Jaskier. “You mentioned something about a contract yesterday, right?”</p><p>“You’re not coming with me.”</p><p>“Sure, sure,” said Jaskier. “You keep saying that. That’s what you’ve been saying for the past weeks. And you know what I’ve been doing for the past few weeks anyways?” Jaskier grins. “Going with you.” </p><p>Geralt sighs. “It’s your deathwish.” </p><p>“Sure, sure,” said Jaskier, sounding unconcerned. “So what is it? Vampires, werewolves, devils?” Jaskier waggled his eyebrows. It looked ridiculous. </p><p>Geralt downed half his ale in one go. “Drowners.”</p><p>“Oh! Yes, yes, the, uh- the muddy, saggy looking ones, yes? The ones that drown people?” Jaskier lay one cheek on his palm, leaning forward, looking actually interested. Geralt sighed, deciding to humor Jaskier a bit- A few short sentences about drowners, mostly basic facts, though Jaskier paid rapt attention anyways, blue eyes sparkling.</p><p>(Geralt tried to avoid looking at those blue eyes as they stared at him- He knew he’d got lost in them even with a mere glance.)</p><p> </p><p>“Stay back,” Geralt says to him. </p><p>“Right-o,” said Jaskier, sitting cross-legged on the ground. “You think maybe I should play a little diddy? Perhaps drowners appreciate my music, unlike you, so maybe it could draw them out?”</p><p>Geralt just ignored him, moving forward onto the bridge. </p><p>“<em>O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord</em>,” Jaskier hummed, strumming his lute. “Ugh, where are the drowners already?” He stood up, and then he began to sing something else-</p><p>As Jaskier busied himself, Geralt crept forward, looking for any sign of the drowners in the rivers beneath him. </p><p>
  <em>“There’s an eerie quiet, on the southern levees…”</em>
</p><p>Damn, where are they? Geralt’s almost tempted to just dive into the river, if just to get this over with. They really can't be too far off.</p><p><em>“A halcyon sky and, atmosphere gone heavy-”</em> </p><p>Maybe the drowners got scared off by Jaskier’s singing, Geralt thinks to himself bemusedly. If only the bard would just shut up.</p><p>
  <em>“There’s a wind arising with the ire of Venus,<br/>
Tugging at the surface of the seas between us.”</em>
</p><p>Maybe the drowners are further down the river. Geralt sighed. Gods forbid he’d have to walk any further down this damned river, going <em>pspspspsp</em> in order to draw out the damn drowned things.</p><p>
  <em>“And it’s catalyzing with a breath of calefaction…”</em>
</p><p>Oh, fuck. Did Geralt just hear something?</p><p><em>He did</em>. There’s something bobbing in the water, a little ways off. The air is filled with a putrid scent.</p><p>
  <em>Just a little closer, come on.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A thunderous disturbance, and for every action a reaction-”</em>
</p><p>The drowner’s head pops out of the water.</p><p>Multiple drowner’s heads are popping out of the water.</p><p>They’re all looking at Jaskier.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, fuck’s sake.</em>
</p><p>They’re creeping forward to Jaskier. Geralt instinctively starts creeping back towards the bard.</p><p>Jaskier seems unfazed. He acts like he’s ignoring the drowners, but Geralt can see he’s watching them out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>
  <em>“The rush will take you away.”</em>
</p><p>There’s a glint in Jaskier’s eye.</p><p>
  <em>“Like you’re caught in the undertow, and you will drown in the-”</em>
</p><p>And the drowners lunge.</p><p>Geralt’s already beaten them to it, throwing himself in front of the bard and swiping with his silver sword.</p><p>“Oh-<em>kay</em>!” says Jaskier panickedly, tumbling back. “They’re <em>way</em> closer than I expected! I’ll- I’ll leave you to your witchering!” he cries, before retreating, watching Geralt’s fight from a good ways back.</p><p>Geralt digs his silver sword between one of the drowner’s eyes, before yanking it out and swirling to cut the head off another one like it’s some kind of deadly dance.</p><p>
  <em>(Standing back, Jaskier watched him, transfixed.)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“A job well done, I’d say!” Jaskier says, putting his hands on his hips.</p><p>Geralt rolled his eyes, carrying a drowner’s severed head by the hair. He walks towards the village, and Jaskier moves in step with him. </p><p>“You witchered them very good,” Jaskier continued, “although it would’ve been <em>quite</em> funny if they hadn’t shown up at all.” </p><p>Geralt stops walking. “That song you sang,” Geralt began to say.</p><p>“Yes?” Jaskier inquired, eyes sparkling. </p><p>“It attracted those drowners.”</p><p>“Yes, well,” said Jaskier, a bit of pep in his step, “I just thought to myself, aren’t drowners the remnants of humans who, you know, drowned? So <em>then</em> I thought that, if there was any semblance of human still in those drowners, then maybe they’d be able to recognize my song- More specifically, a song about drowning. You know?”</p><p>Geralt snorted. “Sure. Except drowners have never been human.” </p><p>Jaskier just shrugged. “Then maybe they just liked my song.” </p><p>“You think those emotionless creatures care at all about <em>music</em>?”</p><p>“Then maybe they just liked <em>my</em> song specifically. Could’ve been something special about it,” Jaskier said, giving Geralt an overdramatic wink. </p><p>Insufferable. </p><p>Jaskier reached into his back pocket, retrieving his familiar bottle of perfume. He opened it and stuck in his fingers, flicking the scented liquid towards Geralt</p><p>“What the fuck are you doing.”</p><p>“You smell like shit,” Jaskier explained. “If only I could… Oh, I dunno, cast a spell, and then you’ll magically be all cleaned up! Not that I can do magic, or anything.”</p><p>Geralt snorted. Jaskier? Capable of magic? It’s a funny thought, in that it’d never happen. Jaskier was too much of a bumbling fool to ever learn magic.</p><p>Geralt said nothing more as they walked back to the tavern, while Jaskier whistled the melody from earlier.</p><p>Geralt furrowed his eyebrows. He hadn’t noticed when he was searching for the drowners, but that melody that Jaskier sang had that <em>odd<em> quality to it. That sort of <em>odd</em> quality that always seems to accompany Jaskier's music. Maybe there <em>was</em> something special to that song-</em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
 Geralt glanced over at Jaskier, and at the same time Jaskier nearly tripped over his own feet. Geralt grabbed his arm to keep him from falling, and Jaskier grinned and sang something about <em>his savior!</em>, and Geralt rolled his eyes and thought about how Jaskier was such a fool as he forgot what he was thinking about earlier.
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me: hey, isn't there a spell that can attract monsters or somethin??</p><p>DND 5e: no, that's not a thing</p><p>Me:</p><p>Me: this sign can't stop my because i can't read- </p><p> </p><p>the song jaskier sang in this chapter was "notos" by the oh hellos because i WILL make jaskier sing all my favorite songs and i WILL subject you to my music taste because this is MY fic and I get to choose the folk songs</p><p>anyways askgjslgkj ty for reading, and comments are my lifeblood!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. “You're just... Leaving?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>just a quick heads up!!</p><p>lambert and eskel are showing up in this chapter, as well as the next<br/>unfortunately, however, they are very likely to be ooc, on account that i haven't read the books or played the games. basically their personalities are gonna be an amalgamation of<br/>- what i skimmed from their wiki pages<br/>- how they act in other fics &amp; fanworks<br/>- AND what i personally think would fit them/be fun to write </p><p>hopefully one day i'll read the books or play the games but unfortunately the adhd gods have decided for me to hyperfixate on campaign: skyjacks so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it just be like that sometimes<br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mornin’, ye olde witcher,” Jaskier greets as he walks downstairs into the tavern. He slides into the chair across from Geralt. “Anything specific on the agenda today?”</p><p>Geralt just raises his eyebrows at him. “You’re wearing… much less perfume.” </p><p>The small amount of perfume was quite blissful, actually. The tavern just smelled like wood and meat and piss. As it should.</p><p>
  <em>(And then there was the faintest smell of dandelion, soft as a summer breeze. It was sort of nice.)</em>
</p><p>“Yes, well,” said Jaskier, crossing his legs, “It was bothering you.”</p><p>Geralt snorted. “You stopped just because it was bothering me?”</p><p>“Of course!” cried Jaskier incredulously. “What, do you think I get off on annoying you? Don’t answer-”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“-goddammit. And anyways, I trust you. I know you’re not about to, I dunno, axe me to death, or whatever, just because of my,” Jaskier glanced around, “y’know. And anyways, even if some racist witcher was around I know you’d be able to handle them.” Jaskier gave Geralt a small smile. </p><p>Geralt glanced away. “Hm.” </p><p>“So,” Jaskier says. “There aren’t really any monsters in town... Where do we go from here?”</p><p>“It’s almost winter,” Geralt says. “I’m going to Kaer Morhen.” </p><p>He watched as the bard’s eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, and he looks a bit like a fish out of water.</p><p>“You’re leaving,” Jaskier finally says. </p><p>“Yes,” Geralt says curtly, his jaw tensing.</p><p>“You’re just… leaving.”</p><p>“Don’t you have a life outside of me, bard?”</p><p>Jaskier winces at that. “Okay, fuck off. I don’t fucking <em>have</em> to write my ballads about you.” Jaskier sighs and slumps a bit. “Whatever. Whatever! You’re not bringing me to Kaer Morhen, are you?”</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Jaskier ran a hand through his hair. “At least drop me off at Oxenfurt, yeah?” </p><p>Geralt nodded. “Alright.” </p><p><br/>
</p><p>“<em>The road to Oxenfurt, the road to Oxenfurt!</em>” he sang joyfully, before giving Geralt a meaningful glare. “<em>If only my fucking feet didn’t hurt.</em>” He paused, then continued. “<em>The road to Oxenfurt, the road to Oxen-</em> Ugh. How much longer, you think, until we reach the next town?” </p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>“God, I love talking <em>at</em> you. Anyways, would it be alright if I sent you messages while you’re at Kaer Morhen?”</p><p>“As if any postal man would be able to find Kaer Morhen,” Geralt said. </p><p>Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Sure sure, whatever. But, if I found a way to send you messages, would you want them?”</p><p>Geralt glanced at him.</p><p>“Just in case I need help, or something!” Jaskier justified. “Like, if a monster attacked Oxenfurt, or I need help hiding Valdo Marx’s body-”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I’m joking about that,” Jaskier reassured. Then he smirked, before saying, “Monsters don’t attack Oxenfurt often.” </p><p>Geralt sighed. “You’ll be the death of me.”</p><p>“Ha! I guess I’ll try to stave off on disemboweling Marx, if you insist.” </p><p>“...You can send messages. I’m not exactly stopping you.”</p><p>Jaskier grinned. “Good! Good. You know, you may be a pain in the ass, and a shitty conversationalist, and a standoffish prick, and a stinky bastard-”</p><p>“Jaskier.”</p><p>“-and an emotionally constipated donkey,” he continued, “<em>but</em>. I’ll miss you.”</p><p>Geralt blinked. “Oh.”</p><p>That’s… not what he expected. </p><p>“We spent one <em>fabulous</em> year with each other. Here’s hoping there’s more to come!”</p><p>Geralt just gave Jaskier a look, and Jaskier rolled his eyes. </p><p>“This may come as a great shock to you, but I value your presence. And your friendship.”</p><p>“I’m not your friend.”</p><p>Geralt saw Jaskier quickly hide the look of hurt on his face. “Acquaintances, then.” </p><p>There was an odd pressure building up in Geralt’s chest. </p><p>“Well, it’s been a nice year of being your acquaintance,” Jaskier said. </p><p>Geralt nodded. </p><p>“Hm.” </p><p> </p><p>There were two extremely drunk people standing outside of Kaer Morhen, singing loudly.</p><p>
  <em>”Toss a coin to your GERALT!, O valley of plenty, O valley of plenty!”</em>
</p><p>Geralt felt like he was going to pop a blood vessel.</p><p>“I am disowning you two as my brothers.”</p><p>Eskel and Lambert cackled as they continued to sing, <em>”Toss a coin to your GERALT!, and friend of humanity!”</em> Their voices cracked as they botched the high note, which just caused them to cackle even more.</p><p>“Geralt!” cried Lambert. “We’ve been hearing your song everywhere, you’re famous now!” </p><p>“I hope you paid your bard friend well for the good press!” slurred Eskel.</p><p>“Oh right, your bard friend!” continued Lambert. “<em>That</em> must be who’s scent you’re carrying right now. Unless you’ve got a newfound penchant for dandelion perfume!” The two of them snickered.</p><p>Geralt slid off of Roach’s saddle. “Lambert, come here.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Geralt punched him in the gut. </p><p>Lambert fell onto his knees, wheezing, while Eskel just laughed harder.</p><p>“Should’ve… seen that coming…” Lambert said between pained wheezes.</p><p>Geralt rolled his eyes. “Yes. You should’ve.” </p><p> </p><p>“It <em>is</em> good to have you back, truly.”</p><p>Jaskier smirked. “I know.”</p><p>He was currently sitting in the office of Samuel Shorthalt, Jaskier’s former professor when he attended Oxenfurt. </p><p>“Julian.”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Please, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart- Please, please, please, please, <em>please</em> do <em>not</em> assault Valdo Marx while you’re here.”</p><p>Jaskier hesitated. “So… Do you mean that in a <em>physical</em> way, or.. In a <em>psychic</em> way?”</p><p>Shorthalt glared at him. “<em>Neither</em>, Julian. <em>Please</em>.” </p><p>Jaskier picked some imaginary dirt from under his nail, and sighed. “<em>Fine!</em> Have you heard-”</p><p>“Yes, Julian, I’ve heard your songs. Quite impressive.”</p><p>“Why thank you!” Jaskier said, grinning. “Though it is a bit of a struggle- A lute can only do so much, when there’s a symphony in my head.”</p><p>Shorthalt raised an eyebrow. “There are always ways around that, Julian.”</p><p>Jaskier leaned back in his seat and sighed dramatically. “I know! It’s just a bit heard to do that when you have a travel companion.”</p><p>“So it’s true,” Shorthalt said, leaning forward. “You’re travelling with the witcher.”</p><p>“True as can be!” Jaskier confirmed.</p><p>Shorthalt opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, closed it, opened it and asked, “Why?”</p><p>Jaskier snorted. “For <em>protection</em>.” </p><p>Shorthalt rolled his eyes, as if to say <em>as if you need protection</em>.</p><p>“Why are you <em>actually</em> travelling with him?” </p><p>Jaskier hesitated a moment. “Is it so hard to believe that maybe I just like him?” </p><p>“...Are you in <em>love</em>-”</p><p>“What? <em>No</em>! Maybe? <em>No</em>!” Jaskier spluttered. “Fuck off! What’re you, my mum?” </p><p>Shorthalt just chuckled. “I was just <em>asking</em>. ...This witcher, he isn’t-”</p><p>“Dangerous?” Jaskier laughed. “Not to me. Never to me.”</p><p>Shorthalt nodded. “Alright. Where is your witcher now?”</p><p>Jaskier gestured vaguely. “<em>Witchering</em>. Off to his spooky fortress for the winter, you know how it is.”</p><p>“He left you?” </p><p>Jaskier frowned. “You could say that.”</p><p>“Julian-” </p><p>“So can I be a guest speaker? For the winter.”</p><p>Shorthalt looked at him, and sighed, smiling a little and shaking his head. “You didn’t even need to ask, Julian.”</p><p>Jaskier smiled. “Perfect.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i scoured the witcher wiki to see if jaskier had a canonical mentor (so basically i was wondering if jaskier had his own version of vesemir) and when i found nothing i decided "fuck it" and just made jaskier's old mentor scanlan shorthalt from critical role. after a few minutes i realized "wait this is stupid" and then decided to just make up some random oc. i did decide to keep the last name the same, tho. as an easter egg, ig. the idea of straight up motherfuckin Scanlan Fucking Shorthalt teaching jaskier his ways as a bard is just way too chaotic</p><p>comments are always appreciated!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. "He can't be just a bard, I don't buy that."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t believe you won’t tell us a <em>thing</em> about that bard of yours,” Lambert says during breakfast a few days into winter.</p><p>“All of his ballads may be about <em>you</em>,” Eskel said, “but because of his songs, people have been more open-minded about all witchers in general. Do you <em>you</em> how much easier it’s been to get contracts?”</p><p>“What do you want me to even say about him, Eskel? He’s <em>just</em> a bard.”</p><p>“<em>Just a bard</em>, my ass!” Lambert said. “He can’t be <em>just a bard</em>, I don’t buy that.”</p><p>“Well then, I don’t know what you want from-” </p><p>And then that’s when he heard it. </p><p>Jaskier’s voice.</p><p>
  <em>”Hello Geralt! It’s me, your best friend, bard extraordinaire. You said I could send messages, so… How’s winter so far? I, myself, have been a-”</em>
</p><p>There was the slightest of pauses until Jaskier’s voice came back with full force. <em>”SHIT this has a 25 word limit- I’m a guest speaker at Oxenfurt! The students love me here!”</em> Jaskier sounded like he wanted to ramble on, but was desperately trying to hold himself back. Despite the word limit, Jaskier spoke easily like the words were rolling off his tongue, pausing only for a few moments to think about his next words. It made Geralt think about how lyrics always came to him so easily, no matter the melody, always thinking of the right turn of phrase to fit the song.</p><p>
  <em>”I’m well, friend. Hope you are too.”</em>
</p><p>Geralt opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, “What the <em>fuck</em>.” Geralt could feel the spell being sent back to Jaskier.</p><p>“What the hell was that?” Lambert asked. </p><p>“You good, Geralt?” asked Eskel. “You spaced out.”</p><p>Lambert snorted. “White Wolf losing his senses?”</p><p>Geralt just glared at him. “I just got a message from Jaskier.”</p><p>Lambert raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” </p><p>“A magical message?” said Eskel, brow furrowed. “But I thought you said-”</p><p>“He <em>can’t</em> do magic,” Geralt insisted firmly. </p><p>“Oh, you don’t know that! <em>Maybe</em> he’s a spellcaster and he’s been hiding it from you all along, and you’ve just never noticed,” Lambert teased, smiling into his mug. </p><p>Geralt was about to say something a bit snarky, when Jaskier’s voice returned. <em>”How eloquent, wow,”</em> he deadpanned. <em>”I bought an object that sends messages. Neat, isn’t it? So how has the winter treated you so far, my dear witcher?”</em></p><p>Geralt sighed. </p><p>“I’m doing fine, Jaskier. Where did you get that item?”</p><p>“<em>Sorry,</em>said Jaskier, taking a thoughtful pause. “<em>I can only message you four times a day. You can reply but I won’t be able to respond. My dear witcher, stay well.</em>” </p><p>Geralt felt the magic dissipate. </p><p>Lambert and Eskel looked at him expectantly.</p><p>“Is your bard alright?” Eskel asked.</p><p>“He’s <em>fine</em>,” said Geralt. “He just found a way to send messages to me. With some sort of object.”</p><p>Lambert and Eskel glanced at each other.</p><p>“An…” Lambert started.</p><p>“<em>Object</em>?” finished Eskel.</p><p>Geralt just shrugged at them “Hell if I know.”</p><p>“Do you trust it?” Lambert asked. </p><p>“And how do you know it was actually your bard?” said Eskel. “What if it was just someone that sounded like him?” </p><p>Geralt glared at him. “It’s <em>him</em>.”</p><p>“You think so…?” Eskel asked.</p><p>Geralt leaned forward. “I <em>know</em> so.”</p><p> </p><p>Jaskier pouted, arms crossed as he leaned back on the headboard of his bed.</p><p>Fucking word limit. Fucking spells. He wasted a lot of his magic on those Sending spells, so now he won’t be able to cast any of his more powerful spells.</p><p>It’s a little annoying, but to be fair, he can’t really think of any reason why he’d need <em>Counterspell</em> or <em>Tiny Hut</em> or, hell, <em>Plant Growth</em> while he’s in Oxenfurt.</p><p>And, well. It was still good to hear Geralt’s voice again. Even if he didn’t fucking <em>respond</em> to his last message. </p><p>Why didn’t he respond? Did he just not want to? Was he talking to someone else? Did something <em>happen</em>? Is he okay? What if-</p><p>Jaskier shook his head. He’s fine. The witcher’s fine. He’s probably having a lovely time without some bard talking his ear off all day.</p><p>Ugh. Whatever.</p><p>He <em>is</em> happy to be in Oxenfurt, though.</p><p>Jaskier reached up, feeling the tip of his pointed ear. </p><p>Jaskier sighed. </p><p>
  <em>(He messages Filavandrel too, sometimes, just to ask how he’s doing. Their harvest was unlike anything they’ve had in years, he said.)</em>
</p><p>Jaskier wonders if maybe there <em>is</em> a magical object he could find that can cast Sending. It would certainly make things a bit easier. Plus, it wouldn’t be the only magical object he had.</p><p>Jaskier twisted the ring around his finger.</p><p>The ring contained a glamour spell- Shorthalt had commissioned it for him some time ago.</p><p>It was <em>very</em> convenient. Disguise Self only lasted for an hour, and if he used all his magic to cast Disguise Self, it’d only last four hours, and not to mention he wouldn’t be able to cast any of his other less powerful spells. For quite a while, Jaskier relied on four hours of multiple Disguise Self spells, and a dark hooded cloak when the Disguise Self wore off.</p><p>It really wasn’t his style. Disguise Self was good for a pinch, but not for anything long-term. </p><p>And yes, he misses travelling with Geralt (and travelling in general), but he’s happy to be back in Oxenfurt. He’s itching to go train with Shorthalt, hopefully he’ll learn a new spell or two before the winter’s up.</p><p> </p><p>“You <em>do</em> know I haven’t <em>fought</em> anything in a good years, right?”  </p><p>“So you’ve said,” Shorthalt half-heartedly acknowledged, casually swinging the rapier around in his hand. </p><p>Jaskier sighed. </p><p>“You were an adventurer of your own before you met that witcher, Julian.”</p><p>Jaskier grimaced. “I <em>know</em>. It’s just, I don’t particularly have the opportunity to <em>fight monsters</em>, Shorthalt. As if Geralt would let me.”</p><p>“He thinks you’re incapable of combat?”</p><p>“He’d shit a brick if he knew I could use a sword, Shorthalt. He probably thinks I can’t lace up my own boots.”</p><p>Shorthalt snorted, then paused. “You <em>can</em> still fight, right?”</p><p>Jaskier spluttered, offended. “<em>Can</em> I fight!? Of course I can! How <em>dare</em>!”</p><p>Shorthalt just chuckled. “How about you prove it to me?”</p><p>Jaskier frowned. “My fighting abilities are <em>fine</em>, Shorthalt, I was actually hoping we’d work on magic?” </p><p>Shorthalt clicked his tongue. “You’ve got a spell you’re eager to learn?” </p><p>“Dimension Door.”</p><p>Shorthalt laughed. “I’m sure you’d find many uses for that. A quick escape from angry husbands, perhaps?”</p><p>“Hey, <em>that’s</em>- Actually, that’s fair.” Jaskier pauses, looking down at his rapier. “</p><p>Shorthalt whistled. “Very ambitious of you.” </p><p>Jaskier looked up at Shorthalt, determination in his eyes. “I <em>could</em> do it.”</p><p>Shorthalt raised an eyebrow. “In one winter?”</p><p>Jaskier nodded. </p><p>Shorthalt smirked. “Okay, then. <em>We’ve</em> got much training to do.” </p><p> </p><p>Geralt dodged Eskel’s next attack easily, side-stepping and swinging his sword at Eskel’s legs. </p><p>Eskel was too quick, twirling to one side. Eskel swung his sword, but Geralt blocked it swiftly, pushing back against Eskel. If Geralt could just get Eskel off balanced...</p><p><em>”Hi Geralt!”</em> </p><p>“Shit!” Geralt startled, and that one moment of confusion was enough for Eskel to topple Geralt onto his back. </p><p>Jaskier’s message continued even as he hit the ground. </p><p>
  <em>“Are you enjoying your stay at Kaer Morhen? I, myself, have actually been quite productive! I assume you’ve been keeping quite busy, Geralt.”</em>
</p><p>“<em>Jaskier</em>,” Geralt said through gritted teeth, panting as the adrenaline of the fight wore off. Geralt could hear Eskel snicker. “Right now is a <em>bad time</em>.” Geralt sighed. “No matter. I’ve been <em>fine</em>, Jaskier. I’m blaming you for the sparring match I just lost. And the-” Geralt was about to say <em>and the headache I have right now</em>, but he felt the spell get sent back to Jaskier. </p><p>“<em>Your message got cut off. 25 word limit, dear. Sorry for your sparring match</em>,” Jaskier said, sounding a bit like he was about to laugh. “<em>Oxenfurt is really nice, I should show you around, one day.</em>”</p><p>Geralt sighed. “Maybe one day, bard.”</p><p>Eskel raised an eyebrow at him, and Geralt rolled his eyes.</p><p>“It’s Jaskier, sending another one of his messages.”</p><p>“Right,” said Eskel. “You should talk to him about the whole <em>messaging</em> thing. Wouldn’t want him to message you in the middle of a <em>real</em> battle.”</p><p>Geralt grimaced. Eskel just took his hand and helped him up from the floor. </p><p>“Maybe next time,” said Eskel with a little smirk, “try not to get distracted by your bard <em>friend</em>.” </p><p>Geralt scowled. “I’m still disowning you.”</p><p>“Yes, you keep saying that,” Eskel teased. </p><p>Geralt just sheathed his sword and glared at him.</p><p> </p><p>Jaskier’s messages continued throughout the winter. </p><p>Sometimes Geralt would be getting dressed in the morning, or he’d be trying to sleep, or he’d be in a sparring match, and Jaskier’s voice would echo through his head unprompted. </p><p>
  <em>(Geralt most hated it when Jaskier messaged him while Geralt was taking a piss. Jaskier is never going to stop teasing him for it.)</em>
</p><p>Sometimes, though, Jaskier would message him while Geralt had nothing to do. When that happened, Geralt would sit back and feel the tension relax from his shoulders as they had a short, but perhaps pleasant, conversation. </p><p>
  <em>(It is interesting, the things you say when you have a word limit. It’s the first time Geralt’s ever heard Jaskier think before he talks. Sometimes, Jaskier will say something oddly poignant as Geralt feels the magic of the messaging spell fade out.)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Fucking door. Fucking magic. Fucking spells.</p><p>“<em>Magic door, magic door</em>,” Jaskier sang through gritted teeth, aggressively strumming his lute. “<em>Open up, magic door!</em>”</p><p>From the corner of his eye, he could see Shorthalt pinch the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“<em>Julian</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Magic door, magic door, please fucking-</em>”</p><p>“<em>Julian</em>!”</p><p>Jaskier stopped abruptly, and he glanced over at Shorthalt. “...Yeah?” </p><p>Shorthalt took a deep breath- in, out. </p><p>“Calm down, Julian. This is getting you nowhere, you need to focus.” </p><p>Jaskier grimaced. “If I just do it with enough spite then it’ll eventually work, I swear.”</p><p>“You can’t just fuel yourself with <em>spite</em>.”</p><p>Jaskier snorted. “I sure as hell can! How else do you think I’ve gotten this far in life?” </p><p>The determination shone in his blue eyes. </p><p>“I’m not stopping until this damn spell works.”</p><p>Shorthalt rubbed his forehead. </p><p>“At least take a break?” he pleased. “25 minutes. 15. At least 10 minutes of not thinking about magic. Then you can go back to practicing.” </p><p>Jaskier considered it for a minute.</p><p>Shorthalt sighed. “I really shouldn’t tell you this, but… Valdo Marx was planning to perform in town square. You have, hm, about five minutes until he gets there?” </p><p>Jaskier’s eyes widened. “Fuck! Why didn’t you <em>say anything</em> about it!?” </p><p>“Because I shouldn’t encourage fighting between my ex-students!” Shorthalt insisted. He paused. “However, it’s possible you could get there before him and take his spotlight. You’ve got four minutes, now. You probably won’t get there in time- Run fast, Julian.” </p><p>Jaskier took in the information, and he smiled dangerously. </p><p>He held his lute tighter. </p><p>He plucked out an urgent melody. </p><p>“Julian, what are you-” </p><p>“<em>I will pass the mark once more<em>,” he sang frantically, steely determination in his eyes, “<em>now darling, summon me that door<em>!” </em></em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Out of thin air, a door appeared-</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>And Jaskier ran right through it, the door disappearing along with him, and all was quiet. </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Shorthalt blinked. “I didn’t think that’d actually work,” he admitted to the empty air. </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“I never should’ve doubted what Julian can do while fueled by spite,” he said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“You know,” says Jaskier as they leave Oxenfurt, “I’d say it was a very productive winter! I gave lectures, talked to students, learned a few new skills! Haven’t gotten around to strangling Marx with his own intestines yet, but one thing at a time, you know?”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Hm.” </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Did you like my messages? It’s a limited form of communication, but I think it worked quite well.” </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Hm.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Jaskier groaned. “Ugh, I can’t believe I <em>missed</em> you.” </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“You missed me?” </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Jaskier snorted. “Of course I did, you oaf,” he said. “So… When do I get to go to Kaer Morhen with you?”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Geralt ignored him.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Jaskier waited expectantly, then sulked. “Hmph. Fine, then. Oxenfurt’s nice during the winter, anyways.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“That object you used to message me,” Geralt said. “What is it.” </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Huh? Oh! Oh, right.” Jaskier dug into his pocket, pulling out a ring. “This thing! Got it from a mage at the outskirts of Oxenfurt, nice lady.” </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Hm.” </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Neat, right?”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“If you say so, bard.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Jaskier just smiled.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>in which jaskier summons his inner jester criticalrole and casts sending way too many times, because if jaskier had that power he would certainly abuse it</p><p>also, the sending spell has a limit of 25 words so my stupid ass adhd brain spent way too long making sure all of jaskier's messages were cut off at the right word. what up my name is jonathan im 15 and i never fucking learned to read</p><p>also, it was So Hard trying to explain the concept of spell slots without actually using the word "spell slots" askajdakfja</p><p>i didn't rlly do much editing on this chapter so if some phrasing sounds weird then thats why </p><p>comments are greatly appreciated!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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